Hope
by C-AND-B
Summary: Three times it's faked, what's the fourth? The fifth?
1. Stolen Kisses

Three Times it's Faked, What's the Fourth? The Fifth?

"_Some people think that the truth can be hidden with a little cover-up and decoration. But as time goes by, what is true is revealed, and what is fake fades away."__ – Ismail Haniyeh_

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1.

The first time you kiss is for show. You're standing directly in front of pretty much everyone in school and your ruse is about to be exposed. You should let Bailey tell everyone it's a lie. Your life would have been a hell of a lot simpler had you let Karma confirm the fakery you had thrust upon them, but you don't want to see your friend hurt. You love her. You thought it was platonic. The kind of unadulterated love you give your best friend. You though that. You really did. Then you kissed her.

You were understandably anxious but the words tumbled from your mouth nonetheless. You turn her in your grip nervously. At first it's because, _holy shit you're about to kiss your best friend in bunch of a shit load of people, _but then it's because she's pressed against you and there's something about it that's different to any other time you've hugged. Suddenly her warmth is dizzying, and intoxicating, and disorientating, and you're confused as hell but you've already committed to this so you push forward.

Your eyes are screwed shut to the point that it aches, and you're clutching your sleeves desperately because even though your lips are a breath away, clutching her waist with the intensity you're feeling in that moment seems all too real, too intimate, and that scares you.

You forget all of that the moment your lips meet hers.

You should have kept it chaste. It should have been as short and as awkward as that one time your cousin thought it'd be a good idea to practice kissing with you. It was the opposite. You part your mouth and bask in the fact that she mimics the movement. Breathing doesn't come easy to you. It's like she is somehow stealing your breath at the exact moment she breathes everything she has into you. Thinking comes too easy. _Is her heart thumping so hard she can't hear anything else? Can she feel her blood rush through her veins, pulsing so fiercely that the vessels threaten to explode? Does your scent flow through her entire body till it's not just a smell, it's an addiction? Kiss me again – is that the first things she thinks as you pull apart, finally letting the cheers fill your ears?_

You register the confetti when she pulls back. You should have realized it sooner but with her so close you weren't registering much other than the fact that she tastes like strawberries and _peanuts?_

"Whoa" She utters and you reply in similar awe, or what you thought was similar until she winks and says, "Way to sell it" Your heart aches then and it occurs to you that the answers to your earlier questions are – no. You didn't make her heart thump, or her veins pulse. You didn't get her addicted by a simple smell; she didn't immediately feel the need to do it again. It was all an act. Nothing more. Nothing less.

And that hurts a hell of a lot more than it should.

2.

The next time you kiss you are apprehensive, or at least, more so. You're sitting on the grass and it's nice. Everything seems as it always was and the silence seems to drown out the screams in your mind that beg you to tell her. Plead for you to admit to this girl that you've been replaying that moment in your head over and over. And not because you straight away got more baked goods or because you were shrouded in glory. No. You replay it because you're living in the fantasy that she meant it, as much as you realized you did.

Your head is reasonably clear and you're making jokes with your best friend like it is the easiest thing in the world. Except that ease is quickly shattered by outsiders. Evidently just about everything was ruined by outsiders. They had assumed you two were lesbians. They had thrust you into the spotlight without your permission. They had made you discover your deep seated feelings for your best friend. Yeah. You definitely blame outsiders. Coincidentally they were the exact same people who chanted for you two to kiss while all you really wanted to do was eat your tuna sandwich, and avoid school because you were right – you don't like them in the day nor do you at night when they've been drinking.

Karma turns to you with a grin and you reply with an awkward grimace but it doesn't deter her because she leans forward and you're once again obsessed with the warm torrent of her breath that cascades down your neck as she positions her lips smoothly at your ear.

"I guess we should give our fans what they want" You find yourself smiling, despite your inner turmoil, because you can hear the smile in her voice and regardless of how your life is falling apart, the ability to make her smile is the one constant you have, the one thing you love more than anything else.

The smile doesn't fade as her lips press into yours, if anything it grows. You lose yourself in her when she runs her fingers through your hair. It's a budding obsession the moment her nails rake against your scalp and you force yourself to pull away because you can't do this. You can't lose yourself in the tiniest of mannerisms that no one else would even think to memorize. You commit it to memory in any case even as you refuse to meet her eye. You can't look her in the eye because she'd know. She'd see your internal freak out and she would question it until you blurted it out.

She follows your gaze relentlessly until she catches you with an impenetrable stare. You briefly wonder when she gained this hold over you until it occurs to you that she always has. You expect her to stare at you in shock but it never comes, and you think that maybe you're hiding better than you originally thought because all she gives you is her signature smile. The smile that you've realized is especially for you because its equal parts fond and endearing and it gives you hope each passing moment it sits on her face.

3.

It's once again for show when your lips meet for the third time. You should have yourself under control by now. Two times should be enough preparation. It should be enough to teach your heart to stop hammering against your ribs, crashing and crashing, asking for exoneration. It's not enough time and you and all you can think is - _Can she feel it? Can she feel the erratic pulse on my neck as she runs hers hands along the flesh? Can she feel my heart slam into her chest with abandon?_

The situation is far more awkward than any of your other kisses because she talked you into a threesome. By that you mean she begged and begged until you caved because you would stupidly do anything for her, including awkwardly sitting on a bed, in a trench coat, with Liam – who you can't work out why makes the girls swoon. In your mind he is nothing above average but maybe that's because your mind is clouded with Karma. Who, coincidentally, is the person who suggests you kiss to ease the tension.

It lasts longer than it should, that much you know. It gets more heated than it should too and you have no idea how it got to such a point. One second the kiss was innocent enough. You know, as innocent as a kiss can be when it's a fake make out session between friends. It was clean and precise and you would think that if anyone would lose themselves in it, it would be you, but no. It was Karma.

You hear yourself whimper pathetically the moment her tongue pushes past your defenses and sneaks its way into your mouth. You should have guarded it better because now her tongue is dancing with yours and this seems like a new step. You've crossed a line here but you can't stop now. You tell yourself that it's because Liam would catch on, but in reality it's because there is an invisible tether dragging you to her and no matter what you try to do to cut it, it only strengthens and you're afraid to make it worse.

She still tastes like strawberries and now chocolate. The taste is exhilarating and before you know what you're doing you've tugged her hips closer. You can feel her pelvis brush dangerously with your own and usually you'd be freaking out. Your inner mantra would scream - _Stop! Stop! Stop! _But your head is eerily silent other than the echoes of the moan that reverberated through your bones as it ripped from her throat. _Her throat_.

You almost smirk but you can't think of anything other than her hands at the belt of your coat. The rustling snaps you back to reality.

It's not just you and Karma. This isn't real. Liam is sitting on the bed undoubtedly trying to hide his excitement because this had gotten way out of hand. You can't do this.

You rip your head away but you can't move your body. She's holding you too tight. You can hear an erratic symphony of heartbeats and you're pretty sure you're not just hearing one, but two. Hope grows when you catch a glimpse of her face. Her eyes are clutched so tight you think she might pass out. Her brows are furrowed and they're a mix of adorable and confused. You don't actively decide to push her disheveled locks behind her ear but you find yourself doing it. The intimate act makes her eyes snap open to yours.

Her eyes are unguarded and she looks torn and unhinged. It spurs something inside of you but then Liam coughs and you're once again surrounded by the real world. The world in which she'll realise you aren't what she wants the moment there is distance between your lips. The world in which she'll sneak around with Liam no matter how much it hurts you because you won't admit it. That's the world you're afraid of, so you extract yourself from her grasp with a million mumbled apologies as you sprint out of there.

You don't stop running until you've reached your house.

4.

Things get even more confusing the fourth time you kiss. You're at yet another party you don't really want to be at, but you find yourself at regardless, because Karma pouted and it's like your kryptonite.

You lose her in the mass of people almost as soon as you walk through the door. You want to look for her, you really do. You want to know she's safe. You want to know that no one is even thinking about taking advantage of her. But you don't look. You don't look because you're afraid you'll find her with Liam and you can't watch that, at least, not without throwing up in your mouth a little.

In the end you don't have to look for her. She finds you.

You're sitting in the garden alone, avoiding everyone. The fact that there is basically no one around is why you're so shocked. You kiss because people are watching, and they're suspicious, and they're oddly needy. But in that moment there were all of three people outside – you, Karma and a boy that was way too drunk to remember his own name, let alone remember a kiss.

She stumbles out drunk and all but falls onto your lap as you sit on a particularly comfortable lawn chair. You can smell the alcohol on her breath but the fruity scent you've come to know still lingers in its depths.

"Amy!" She shouts and you cringe because her lips are already directly next to your ear and you really didn't need that level of noise, especially since now you think you may be partially deaf. Her arms are wrapped tightly around your neck, and due to there being no other position you hazardously let your arms rest around her waist. You thought it would have been uncomfortable but you revel in the weight of her on your lap, in the way she blocks the harsh, cold breeze from your body, warming you in more ways than one.

"Hey Karma" You find yourself whispering softly. You're not really sure why. Maybe it's because any louder would shatter the moment. Or maybe it's because you're afraid it'll alert someone of your location so they could shatter it for you.

"You look really pretty tonight" You chuckle at the way she hiccups the words out. She looks oddly childlike in the moonlight, despite being apparently hammered. Her words make you look down at yourself. You didn't wear anything different to usual, you're wearing jeans and a knitted jumper because it's cold and you decided a long time ago that you don't really give a shit what anyone thinks, just Karma.

"So do you" Is what you find yourself saying and she smiles so brightly you almost shield your eyes from its intensity.

Your breath latches onto your throat, refusing to move the moment she leans in. Her ears dart from your eyes to your lips and your lungs ache because you need to breathe, but you can't even remember how. All you can remember is her lips, and her hands, and her hips, and her.

She halts just before she comes crashing into you, like a wave at the shore. She hasn't stopped staring into your eyes and you almost falter under her gaze but her hands slide from the base your neck until they caress your jaw, refusing to let you out of the locking of eyes.

"This is real" Three words. Three syllables. Ten letters. Your heart stops. You almost let yourself kiss her back when she presses her lips to yours, but you don't. Not because you don't want to disappear into her depths but because it isn't real. There may have been no one else around but you could taste the alcohol on her lips. You could smell it on her breath. You could feel its lucidity affecting her every movement. You don't kiss her back because it would feel real but it wouldn't be. That's why you don't kiss her. She must think different because this time, she's the one that runs, and she doesn't look back no matter how many times to call her name.

5.

She ignores your calls for days. You know she is itching to pick the phone up but she's stubborn - she always was. You know she is avoiding you. You don't know if it's because she regrets what she did or she thinks you don't feel the same way and she's embarrassed. Regardless of the answer you miss your best friend and you won't let her hide from you.

The fact that her mum is completely oblivious to the situation is obvious the moment she allows you in with nothing more than a smile and a confirmation that Karma is, in fact, in her room. You nod in reply and nervously trudge up the stairs. Normally you wouldn't knock but it's like all bets are off now and you find yourself even pausing before your knuckles rap against the wood in a steady rhythm. You enter at the sound of her voice and your face lights up in a fond smile at the sight of her sprawled on her bed, kicking her feet in the air.

"Hi" You mentally face palm because God! You came all the way to her house, you should have rehearsed a speech, you should have known what to say, and you did. At least, you think you had a plan but everything went out of the window the moment you saw her face. She doesn't seem all that impressed with your entrance either because she sighs before replying.

"What are you doing here Amy?" She huffs and you take a tentative step towards her, almost as though you're afraid you'll spook her.

"We need to talk about the other night" She jumps up from the bed in a flash and you realise that there was no way to be cautious, she was going to panic no matter how carefully you stepped, or how guardedly you spoke about the occurrence. You didn't expect her to start rambling however.

"I didn't mean to kiss you. It's just- The other night… Liam. It was intense and, and- I thought maybe you felt it too because you ran. I mean, _you _ran. I'm sorry; I just couldn't stop thinking about it but… I shouldn't have. I shouldn't have kiss-"You don't let her finish and you think that it's a complete cliché but you couldn't think of anything to say in that moment, and she was trying to backtrack so you don't speak, you just kiss her.

You simply fling your head forward and capture her lips at first. You're thankful that you didn't head butt her because that seems to be just your luck but it works out well. You swallow her words easily and your hands join your lips a moment later. You follow the contours of her chin before locking your fingers in the hairs at the nape of her neck. You allow her to pull back an inch but your hand are still clasped at the back of her neck and your acutely aware of the way hers clutch at the fabric that covers your waist.

"You kissed me" She states simply and you really wished she would open her eyes so that you could gauge her reaction to what you just did, because although she basically told you she couldn't stop thinking about your kiss, you keeping thinking she'll change her mind. You keep thinking that in the cold light of day she'll realise you aren't really what she wants.

"Yeah" You reply and you curse yourself for sounding so breathless and weak but it causes her to open her eyes and you suddenly don't care how pathetic you sound because yes, she looks scared but she also looks hopeful.

"Why?" She questions as she fiddles with the material of your shirt.

"I didn't know what to say, and it was the only thing I could think of to tell you that I couldn't stop thinking about it either" She laughs, and it's light and musical, and it makes your heart ache delightfully.

"You couldn't have just said it?" She cocks an eyebrow to accompany her words and you find yourself smiling self deprecatingly.

"It seemed a lot harder at the time." Her smile widens and you find yourself grinning right along with her because this is all you wanted. You didn't even realise how much until you kissed her. You didn't even realise how much you loved her, in a completely un-platonic way until you were forced to act that way. In the end the truth was revealed, it just wasn't the truth you had been expecting.

"This is real" She repeats her words from the other night and your brows rise inquisitively until she's kissing you again. You don't stop her this time. You don't even think before returning the sentiment and you're glad because it only makes her kiss you harder. You don't protest when she grips you tighter because you find yourself never wanting her to let go. You don't question it when she nips at your bottom lip because it's undoubtedly one of the hottest things you've ever been subjected to. You don't hold back the moan that escapes your mouth as she continues her exploration with fervor. And you most certainly don't say anything when she pushes you back onto her bed, tumbling after you with a salacious grin, well, nothing other than an incoherent mumble that she takes the time to decipher with her mouth.

You could definitely get used to this.


	2. Whispered Admissions

Chapter Two – I Love You

Authors Note: This was going to be a one shot but I got bored and this happened. So, for the purpose of this forget chapter one happened.

Fake declarations of love and the times that you're not quite positive when you crossed the line into the truth

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"_No man can reveal to you nothing but that which already lies half-asleep in the dawning of your knowledge." - Khalil Gibran_

1.

The first time you tell Amy you love her it's more of an offhand comment than anything else.

You're at yet another one of Shane's parties. You're ecstatic that you were invited, despite the fact that you have no idea how the boy has so many. It seems to be one every week and while you enjoy the attention, you miss sitting in your pajamas, watching house hunters while Amy fights sleep refusing to admit that she's tired. It's adorable, and she's warm, and when she finally gives in she tucks herself into your side unconsciously, pulling you closer than humanly possible like she's somehow afraid you'll leave in the middle of the night. You never leave. You simply fall asleep in her arms and ignore the way your smile widens at the cute sounds she makes in her slumber.

You idly chat with Liam, and Shane, and a couple of other people you find yourself not wanting to remember the name of because God they're boring. When Amy tells you she's going to get a drink, you don't even think of asking her to get you one too because you know she will. You know she will because your cup was empty when she left, but hers was almost full, and you know she can tell you've been trying to escape to get a drink for at least fifteen minutes.

When she strolls back over a moment later with the same cup she was always holding and a fresh one for you, you feel your grin spread across your face till it aches. She's such a good friend. The words don't slip from your mouth until you've taken a sip and you're in the midst of an almost orgasmic moan because she's managed to pick something way nicer than you had when you first walked in.

"God, I love you" Is what trickles from your lips in your drink induced haze and you watch her freeze. A blush crawls up her face and you can't decide whether it was the words or the tone that brought it on her. You forget all about it however when she ducks her head endearingly and mutters how it's no problem.

You spend the rest of the night by Amy's side, ignoring the blatant attempts Liam makes to get you alone and for the life of you, you can't figure out why.

2.

The second time you say those three words it's more of a spur of the moment encouragement that tumbles from your mouth.

You've been forced into dancing in front of just about everyone and you can see how nervous she is, like all she can think about is how she might fall on her face in front of pretty much everyone she knows, and how she'll then have to hide out with her family. You cringe because you understand that fear.

Her nerves shine through her smile. It's not the usual light hearted half smirk, half grin she gives you. It's a cheap imitation that's laced with a grimace and a panicked lilt. But it's still so oddly Amy and you realise that you could probably tell every little thing going on in her mind simply by watching how her lips contort.

Her nerves show through her hands. Since you clarified the obvious fact that she was the butch one, you locked your arms around her neck and waited for her to wrap her arms around your waist. She does it at a treacherously slow pace, and you can feel the limbs trembling against the fabric of your dress. You tug her closer until your lips are beside her ear.

"You missing Snow White and the other Seven Dwarfs there 'Shaky'?" You hear a breathy laugh somewhere near your ear as she grips you tighter till there is no space between you for air, let alone Jesus.

"I'm not the one on tiptoes here" She comments and you take a moment to look down at your feet. You hadn't even realized you'd done it. You hadn't ever really thought about the height difference between you two, but it seems so much more acute when you drop to the balls of your feet and find yourself having to look up at her.

"Why are you so nervous?" You question.

"What if I trip? Literally everyone is watching, and you've seen the way I fall, I'm like a drunken duck, it's pretty unforgettable." You nod my head in affirmation as you chuckle at the description. She attempts your signature pout and you find yourself laughing harder.

"Don't worry; I love you too much to let the one thing you're remembered for be you falling on your face like an animal that's had one too many" She chuckles lowly as she rests her forehead against yours, watching you with unimaginable intensity.

It takes you a while to realise that you're swaying.

3.

The third time it happens, stems from an odd sense of jealously you feel tearing at your mind.

In hindsight, you should have listened to the nagging voice in your head that sounded a lot like Amy telling you not to get drunk with these people. You don't though. You just take the shots Shane gives you and revel in the way the liquid burns down your throat.

The buzzing in your head means you take longer to notice Amy isn't beside you then you usually would.

Your lost eyes and complete puzzlement must be evident upon your face because Shane tells you that she went to the bathroom. You stumble in the direction you think the bathroom is in. Whether or not it actually is, you don't know but thankfully you end up staring at a queue of people, all doing the awkward 'I'm going to wet myself' dance in varying levels of desperation.

You find her in what seems like an instant. You almost sprint at her but you see her talking to a girl just in front of her in the line and your feet feel like they're glued to the floor. You don't know how to describe the feeling simply. It's sort of like someone has punched you in the stomach, chasing every remnant of air from your lungs in an instant. It feels like your heart has been squeezed till nothing was left but dust that seemed to slip between her fingers with each passing tick of the clock. But you never gave her your heart. You shouldn't feel this way. You shouldn't feel so…. Jealous. That's the one word you couldn't grasp.

You shouldn't get angry at the sight of the girls easy chuckle as Amy says something evidently self deprecating. It's her go to conversation when she feels awkward around new people. The girl laughs too hard for your liking. She's too pretty for your liking too. She's taller than Amy which means her legs seem to go on forever, and she's made next to no effort to hide them in her shorts that are the equivalent of the loin cloth that Tarzan wears. Her red hair falls in waves down her body crashing at her chest and you scoff at the realization she's like a Disney princess. She's also far too close to Amy for your liking. She's shuffled closer from the first moment you walked over, and she's resting her hand on your girlfriend's bicep, caressing the skin softly.

That's when you realise that Amy had been oblivious to this girl's intent, because her eyes widen at the contact and her mouth opens into a shocked 'oh' as it clicks in her mind that this girl isn't just being friendly. You marvel at her naivety as your feet drag your body quickly in their direction.

You blame the amount of alcohol you've consumed on the intense jealously you're feeling, you also blame your intoxication for the unceremonious kiss you smack onto Amy's unsuspecting lips. You lose yourself for a moment because she tastes like mint, and her fingers are raking along your scalp, and her body is pressing into yours as you crash her into the wall she stood against. When you pull back for air she follows you blindly with dazed eyes and a furrowed brow.

"Who's your friend?" You ask with sickeningly false sweetness, as you stare at the redhead. Her hands still linger on your body and you watch her stutter for a moment.

"This is um, she's is err- Her name's…" She shakes her head as though trying to clear her mind and regain her sanity.

"Lacey" The girl supplies when Amy comes up blank.

"Of course it is" You mumble and the glare she gives you is priceless, you smile sweetly. "Well, it was lovely to meet you Lacey" You say before turning back to Amy who, to your great pleasure, still looks incredibly dazed. "See you later sweetie" You tell her before you press a small kiss to her lips for the second time that evening.

You don't know what makes you do it. Maybe it's the chance to watch the girl's face contort in silent anger once again. Maybe it's the chance to see Amy's shocked smile as she lifts her hand numbly to the lips you just ravished. Maybe it's the chance to see both at the same time. Whatever the reason, as you walk away you throw the remark over your shoulder with ease.

"I love you"

You decide it was definitely the chance to see both at the same time.

4.

The fourth time it happens it's a whispered admission that falls upon deaf ears.

You spend the entire evening talking about nothing and everything, as you lay tucked up in your bed watching whatever random crap you happen to fall upon as you flick haphazardly through the channels. You'd much rather hear about her day than listen to the housewives fight over minuscule things.

It's around one in the morning when you feel her head drop to your shoulder.

You chuckle because you know this routine. You watch her flutter her eyelids, pleading at them to stay open without actually saying a word. She looks beautiful at night. She looks beautiful in the day too. But in the day it's an obvious glow that plays in the shadows that the sun creates. At night it's more like a hushed secret that lingers on the lips of the moon. It's captivating, and bewitching, and an addiction you feel growing in the pit of your stomach with abandon.

An adorable yawn tumbles from her mouth a second later despite her attempts to muffle it in the crook of your neck. You feel yourself tremble with fond laughter at her sleepy pout.

"Just go to sleep" You find yourself mumbling.

"I'm not tired" She replies defiantly but you know she obliges regardless. She pushes you down until you're both flat before she curls into your side. You shudder each time her warm breath skirts along your collar bone. You're both thankful and annoyed that her lips graze your skin delicately because the goose bumps won't fade and you're afraid she'll notice the effect she has on you.

You lay there for an hour willing yourself to fall asleep, but she threw her leg over your thigh and her arms rest around your waist, locking you to her like she never wants to let you go. The way you feel seems so completely blatant in that moment you wonder how you never noticed it. It hits you like a tonne of bricks and suddenly you can't breathe under their weight. Under _her_ weight. She doesn't know, and she doesn't reciprocate. You say it aloud because you need to. You need to let yourself breathe if only for a moment.

"I love you" You utter into the silence between her calming breaths.

It's an admission you aren't quite ready to make.

It's an admission that makes your whole body tremble.

5.

The fifth time you say it, you shout the words because you have nothing left to lose.

You kiss Liam. You kiss him because you're afraid. You're afraid of how you feel. You're afraid she doesn't feel the same way. You're afraid her heart doesn't thud in her chest when you're around. You're afraid her palms don't get disgustingly sweaty in your presence because she is afraid she'll say something stupid.

You kiss him because you want to forget. You want to forget the soft smiles she sends your way, echoes of grins, and smirks, and everything you love about her. You want to forget the weight of her in your arms as she takes shallow breaths in her slumber. You want to forget the tormenting smell of her hair, and the lingering taste of her mouth that begs you to pay attention. You want to forget how much you love her. She's your best friend; you can't lose her because of something outside of your control.

It doesn't help.

His hands seem too big. They wrap around you, and you want to feel safe and content but you feel trapped, like you're chained to him. His lips seem to rough. Unrelenting. She clutches at you desperately and gently, like she is both afraid that you'll run and you'll break. She kisses you eagerly, like she can never get enough of the intoxicating taste of your lips.

But that's just an act. She doesn't mean it. Not like you mean it.

You break apart because she shows up. You chase her when she runs and you don't even know why you're defending yourself because she isn't your girlfriend, at least not really. She shouldn't care what you do because you're the one whose heart is crumbling in their chest. You're the one who wants so desperately to forget that they fell into a numbing oblivion.

"Why?" She asks, and it rips at your heart because she sounds so broken and you wonder if you're being dense because you can't pinpoint why. It's in that moment when you watch her crumble that you realise you have nothing to lose.

"Because I love you. I kissed him because I love you so much that I can barely breathe, and not in the good way. At first it was great, it was dizzying, and disorientating, and warm. Then it occurred to me that you didn't love me back and my whole world crashed onto my chest, and all I want to do is breathe Amy, but I can't when you're around because you make me breathless. I kissed him because I need to forget that feeling. I kissed him because I need to forget you" You look up as you finish and almost knock her head because she's right in front of you.

Her hands tremble as they run along the contours of your face. Her fingers run along the line of your jaw like she's mapping out the shape, memorising every inch of skin. Your breath catches in your chest, when you dare to look in her eyes. You only have a moment to get lost in them before they're closed and her lips are on yours.

You grip her shirt desperately because you're drowning and she's the only thing that floats. Her lips are soft, and they caress yours lovingly, like each touch is the next line of a poem she utters against your lips. She steals your breath but she's breathing her own back into you, and you're glad because you've been without air for weeks and you feel yourself going lightheaded with the sensation.

Her hands grip the nape of your neck as she kisses you harder. You gasp and her tongue greets yours. They speak in hushed tones, whispering secrets and sharing stories in mumbled undertones. You don't dare open your eyes when she pulls away. You're too afraid you've imagined it. Your too afraid she'll realise it isn't what she wants. She waits patiently until your eyes greet hers.

"Why did you do that?" You ask and she gives you the half grin, half smirk you've been missing so much.

"Because I love you"


	3. Hidden Glances

Once again ignore that the previous chapters exist. Also, I'd just like to thank all those who have followed/favorited/reviewed this, you're all quite lovely. I apologise for any mistakes.

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Chapter Three – Hidden Glances

"_The power of a glance has been so much abused in love stories that it has come to be disbelieved. Few people daresay nowadays that two beings have fallen in love because they have looked at each other. Yet that is the way love begins, and only that way."- Victor Hugo_

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1.

You shock yourself the first time you find yourself staring.

Not because her looks don't warrant furtive glances from other people, you firmly believe she should get far more attention than she does, but you never expected the attention would be from you. You never expected it'd be _you_ staring at her, secretly basking in the little twitches of her face like they are secrets that only you hear floating through the air in hushed tones.

It was Math and you'd been moved apart for talking a few months back. Which wasn't surprising at all except honestly, it hadn't been too effective since now she was simply diagonal to you as opposed to sitting at your side, and Karma had taken to sending you texts instead of speaking though actual words which was far more disruptive to your listening because you spent the majority of your time waiting to hear a ping. A ping that didn't quite capture your ears attention like the soft sounds of Karma's voice.

She hadn't texted you in a while because she was far too busy glaring at her work to think of your boredom. Her brow furrowed adorably as she tried with everything she had to understand the jumble of numbers on the page. It was a subtle droop that made her look far more serious than usual. The closest she would ever get outside to that look outside of this lesson was her signature pout, but it didn't have the same darkness she showcased now. She chewed viciously at her pen, which usually you would find disgusting but with her it seemed more like a cute habit, a subconscious movement of confusion that you could help but find endearing. You don't know why it's automatically acceptable because it's Karma's mouth destroying the pen but it is, and you try your best to not question why.

You had been sitting there for the best part of twenty minutes in boredom. Complete and utter boredom. Not because you were stuck like most of your peers, but because you had finished within minutes of receiving the sheet. Math you understood. Why you found yourself staring so intently at Karma, you did not.

Maybe it was the creases in her forehead that she would complain about later. How she would say Math was making her look older, or 'tainting her youth' as she would dramatically phrase it. She'd pair it with an over the top sigh, and place her hand to her head in despair, and you will sit and laugh at her antics because you don't have the words to describe how she makes you feel. Maybe it was the joyous grin that broke out when she figured it out. It would start small, just an upturn of lips of one side. That, you realized, was the moment she worked out the formula needed to crack the code. The other corner would join the first when she got into the flow. It was a swift movement, one that was almost unnoticeable but you had memorized the change because - to you - it seemed so drastic. The final transition came when she finished it. She didn't know if she had used the right formula. She didn't know if she had the right answer. But she had conquered it in her mind and that was enough for it to burst across her face, lighting the room in your opinion.

What you hated however, was how sharply she flipped back into a grimace as she got to the next question.

That look broke your heart.

That look was the reason the next ping that echoed through the room was her phone. Her phone that now had each and every answer plainly written through text.

The smile that came your way after that was always your favourite.

2.

The second time you find yourself staring her mother tilts her head with a brow furrow that mimics Karma's.

You don't even hesitate to follow her off the bus when it reaches the stop by her house. She doesn't outright ask for your company but at this point she doesn't really need to. It's Tuesday and your mother will be home late. When you were younger it meant you went to Karma's because you couldn't be trusted to stay home alone. Nowadays it means you don't want to be alone with Lauren and her father so you go to her house instead because she is way better company and honestly you'd rather eat dinner with Liam than your own 'family'.

You follow her, not because of words but because of the firm message in her eyes.

Her arm brushes yours in a subtle attempt to grab your attention. You give it to her immediately and watch her grin. She looks at you for a second before the bus stops and you know what it is. Yes, it's an unspoken rule that you go there every week, but every time she questions you as though at some point you'll decide you don't want to seek refuge in her house, in her ridiculously comfy bed. Every week you roll your eyes in answer and follow in her wake.

You don't realise she is holding your hand until it is slipping from your grasp when she stands. Your first instinct is to recapture the appendage and hold it firmly in your own. Her eyes smile at the act and you allow your eyes to travel around the bus. Most students around you are smiling sweetly, because they think she is your girlfriend, and your adoring fans seem to love any kind of bodily contact between the two of you. They have a look in your eyes too but it's fleeting and you can't read it because you don't speak their language. You only speak Karma.

Its a few hours later when you find yourself staring again.

The cooking is awful like it usually is but Mrs Ashcroft is still under the impression it's your favourite dinner because you don't have the heart to tell her you think it tastes like stale vomit. You simply chew the offending item and smile politely at any questions asked about it but it doesn't reach your eyes. It goes unnoticed by the cook but Karma knows and she laughs softly at you at any occasion she gets because you're too nice, and she can see the sheer pain you're enduring to avoid offending her mother in any way.

It's later that you realise the other Ashcroft sees more than she let's on.

Karma is in the middle of a vivid story telling. She's bouncing in her seat like a child showcasing their sticker to their parents as she recants the tale. Her hands gesticulate everything, flying violently through the air with passion because telling it with her words isn't enough; you need to be immersed in the experience. Despite the awkward jilts of her body, you can't be deterred from your intended destination. Her eyes.

Your breath halts at her eyes. The truth behind every word she spews in written plainly in their depths. Her eyes shine like she has a secret but nothing is really hidden when you search in the orbs because she doesn't even attempt to block you out. It's a beautiful thing really. You think her eyes are always beautiful. You're never entirely sure what colour they are no matter how long you stare. One second you think you're sure. One second you think you have spent enough time staring to have cracked the kaleidoscope and then she turns. They catch the light in an instant and you're once again baffled because they flip like a switch. It's puzzling, and confusing but bewitching and your mouth twitches into a smile at the simple sight.

That's normally. When she tells a story they come alive. They play in the words like each syllable is a star and they are twirling in the twinkling sky. In your opinion you could hear the same exact story from someone else, and it wouldn't be half as captivating because they would speak in words, and she speaks in eye rolls, and flutters, and stars.

You're hardly listening by the midst of it but you can feel a subtle burning on your face. You swiftly turn your gaze to her mother. Her head tilts in a question that she refuses to verbalize. Her brow furrows in a confusion that she won't directly address. Her eyes make you realise she knows what you're thinking. Her eyes make you realise she knows too much, that maybe she can read you better than you originally thought. At least, when it matters.

You wish she would simply know you have acquired tastes, her tofu burgers not being one of them.

3.

You're get caught once again the third time, and you wonder how she hasn't noticed because evidently subtlety isn't your strong suit.

Apparently your lunches now consist of Shane and his friends. You power through because they're not really bad people, they just thrust you into the spotlight through the assumption that you like the lady gardens a little too much than the norm. They also made you acutely aware of the way you watch her.

You notice you watch her now except your brain is unconsciously prepared for her every move, as though she is following your instructions down to the letter. That's how you realise you've been watching her for years without thought. It wouldn't take a week to know the path of her smile. It wouldn't take a week to know how to read every vital detail from her eyes. Except now you're aware of your actions, you find yourself watching her more, trying harder to commit her to memory because the nagging voice in the back of your mind tells you you're running out of time. No one questions it now because they're sure you're in love. You're beginning to think they're right. Partially. But soon it'll be over and any extended glance will appear to be a longing yearn and you don't want to be the 'desperate dumpee'.

That's why at lunch you find your eyes tracing each contour of her face, watching them ripple and shift in differing ways, each mesmerizing in their own respect.

You start with her jaw. You watch how it dances and plays with words as they tumble out in her glorious tone. You watch the smooth skin stretch and relax in varying strengths the more excited she gets with her words, and stories. You follow the soft shape, noting any sharp edges with interest.

You move to her cheeks next. Her face has always had substance. They have a light tint of pink that comes from her favourite blush and makes her look permanently flushed, like there is a constant action that makes her nervous. A constant action that puts her on edge. It's a marvelous idea. You only wish it were true. You only wish you could put that constant aura of delight upon her features.

The thing you like most about her cheeks though is the look of them as she smiles. They bunch up cutely, you're not sure if she'd take offence to being likened to a hamster hiding their food in their cheeks but it's the first thing you imagine. The second being that unmitigated need to pinch them and watch as she attempts to bat them away to no avail because she doesn't really try all that hard. It gives her an almost childlike quality but you find her eyes again and you see the woman, the beguiling, tempting, hypnotizing woman.

Your heart hurts.

Your heart hurts when you watch her. At first it's nothing other than a dull throb. It pumps against your chest tenderly, as though it is caressing your ribs, trying to seduce the bones into letting it escape. When that plan fails things intensify. It's still a throb, but it's not longer dull, no longer deniable. Now you begin to hear it chant.

It taps a beat musically, singing a tune that is as melancholic as it is jovial, it's a ballad you realise, a sweet sonnet but you don't listen. You ignore the music of your veins because you aren't ready for the lyrics just yet. All bets are off after that. It's not dull and it isn't a throb. It's an agonizing ache and it tears through your bones, thriving on the excruciating pain you begin to feel.

The music is unavoidable now. You can't ignore the bass beat of your heart crashing into your ribs. You can't ignore the backup thud of your veins, intertwining the alternating sounds in a dynamic dance. You can't ignore the riffs rushing in your ears. The fluctuating flow of your blood swirling louder, and louder, until you can hear nothing else, until it's given it's solo, it's time to shine in the spotlight.

You love her, you note mutely because it seems so painfully apparent you have absolutely no clue as to how you've managed to stay oblivious for so long.

Shane catches your gaze as you try with everything you have to avoid the incessant need to watch her forever, despite the nagging feeling it's an inevitability and any attempts of denial and futile. He watches you knowingly because he sees it. He doesn't know the truth. He thinks you're dating but he can see that you love her. He can see that your love is a secret. He knows enough to offer a pitying look to sympathize with the adoring one you give her and for now it's enough. For now it gets you through because usually you have her, but you can't tell her this and right now you need someone of your side.

4.

The fourth time you remember catching her in your sights, she stares right back at you.

At first she's just as oblivious as she always is. At this point you've taken to being obvious. It's almost addictive, you think, with it being the most daring thing you've ever done. Except the whole 'fake gay, kissing your best friend in front of a bunch of people, throw it in your mum's face' thing. Other than that though - the most daring. Your palms sweat when you watch her. Partially because she is the most adorable thing you've ever seen, especially now as her eyes light up while she surveys the quad with awe because people know her name. People know her name, and they care about her day, and they bring baked good. But partially because you've come to the conclusion that you aren't lying when you announce to the world you love her. You mean it with everything you and God does that scare the living shit out of you.

You've finally been left alone for a while, and evidently that means you have to spend every moment watching her, watch nothing. It's creepy really at this point. You basically spend all day letting your eyes molest her face. You should be bothered. You're not. Mostly you're scared.

It's in the moment that you wonder how long you can keep doing this, when you wonder how long you can let yourself believe this could actually happen that she turns and looks straight at you.

"Is there something in my hair?" Is her first question. You can't help but laugh adoringly at the way she runs her fingers through her frantically. You don't think about it when you grab her hand in yours. It's all you can think about however, when it's sitting there, a light weight against your palm driving you insane.

You've been trying to avoid contact. The feel of her skin running along your own makes your brain melt, and you're pretty sure you can't hide the fact that brains are spilling from your ears, especially not from Karma because ever since you got a concussion in first grade she's been too afraid to let any injury of yours – no matter how small – go untreated and unwatched. It's sweet really, how much she cares, despite the annoyances it offers. Especially now.

It's a subconscious movement that makes your thumb graze across her flesh. It takes you a moment to notice the shape your nail is tracing on her wrist is a heart, and when you do you flush dangerously. You lift your eyes, but you don't let go and you're glad because she has this look. It's one you can't quite understand. You're well versed in Karma but you can't read her right now. You should be scared but she doesn't look repulsed and that's enough for you to keep some traces of hope you have left.

"There is nothing in your hair" You answer her question. You don't know where it came from. She doesn't answer you, not with words. She hums noncommittally and it's a magnificent sound. It's light, and she watches your wrist the entire time like she can't focus on anything but the sensation of it burning on her skin like it burns yours.

Apparently your brain disconnected from your body by this point because before you can even think of what to do next your hand has slipped from her wrist, to clasping her hand as you pull it towards your lips, pressing a chaste kiss to the position your finger lingered just a moment prior. Her hand trembles in your own and you drop them both to the ground – still clasped.

She doesn't take her hand from yours.

A moment later when you finally allow yourself to look at her again, you find she's been watching you the whole time.

That makes you smile.

5.

She's watching you the fifth time you stare.

You're in your room doing homework. You are. Karma probably isn't. That's the thought that makes you look up. You're both lying on your stomachs with your feet in the air, occasionally bumping into one another. You can hear the scratch of your pen across the paper, and the flipping of sheets as you diligently do what the teachers desire of you. But in the silence between your productiveness you hear nothing like that from her. You don't hear her talk like she usually would as she attempted to leas you astray as well. You know you would have given in to her. You would have closed your book, rolled on your side and listened to her rant about her day while you lay sprawled on your bed. You suppose that when you look up because she isn't working you're giving in anyway.

As soon as you lift your eyes, she drops hers down to her book. You quirk an eyebrow when she sighs and raises her gaze to yours again. She opens her mouth to speak but she quickly snaps it shut when she apparently decides against whatever nonsense she was about to spew. You admit you're curious as you remove the book she is 'reading' from under her nose.

"What?" You ask simply. She rests her head on her elbow when she finally decides you deserve to know.

"It's just-"She stops, her face contorts awkwardly and all you can do is smile in encouragement and wait for her to continue. "Yourereallycutewhenyougetallseriousandconcentrate" She says it in one breath, and you laugh because you literally heard nothing that she said but you stop abruptly at the blush on her face.

"You wanna try again? Preferably with breaths?" You joke and she rolls her eyes at you.

"I said you look cute when you concentrate" You cock your head in question. "Your brow creases and you stick your tongue out the corner of your mouth when you really get into it. You drum your fingers too but it's less obvious on your bed then it is on a desk" Her eyes widen at the finishing sentence and you go over and over it in your head.

"You've been watching me" You don't phrase it like a question but she nods in any case.

"You've been watching me" She repeats and you can practically feel a blush clawing its way up your neck to its resting place on your cheeks. She smiles at this before she speaks again. This time it's a question. "Why?"

"I don't know" You begin truthfully. "I just found myself doing it, and then I realized I'd been doing it for longer than I ever could have imagined. Now I just can't stop myself. It's kind of like an addiction, like that Jimmy kid had a few years back before he went to rehab" You're babbling crap but you can't filter it because she knows. She knows you've spent time archiving her habits and ticks. She knows you've been staring when you don't have a right, not one that is true anyhow.

"You're likening me to cocaine?" Her tone portrays one of hurt but the grin on her face lets you know it's nothing other than a joke. Still, you find yourself stupidly blundering through an explanation as you try to defend yourself.

"Yeah because, you know, you create a sense of euphoria, and you make my heart thump with energy, and I'm depressed when you're not around, and I crave your presence whenever you're gone like a dependence because I need you, and I want you, you're addictive Karma Ashcroft, just like cocaine" You blurt it out quickly. You should have though this through. You didn't. You simply threw your words and thoughts out into the open. You probably shouldn't have because now you've put your heart on the line in the weirdest way possible, because God forbid you just tell her you love her. No. You have to confess your inner thoughts by likening the most beautiful girl you know to an illegal substance. You groan as you hide your face in your hands. The heat of her body warms you a moment later and her hands caress your forearms, tempting you into showing your face. You don't pull them away until she copies your movement and begins drawing hearts on your wrists.

When you meet her eyes she smiles.

Then her lips are on yours. You can't think. You can't breathe. You love every minute of it, even though you feel like you're drowning in everything that is her. You've never felt more complete. It isn't faked. It isn't a painful lie. Her lips on yours tell a beautiful truth and you know you'll never have enough. Her forehead rests against yours when she realizes she has made her point and you're still struggling for air.

"As weird as you are Raudenfeld, you're oddly sweet" Those words make you smile. The words that make your heart stop however are the one's she mumbles against your lips. A faint whisper of 'I love you too' hanging onto your taste buds, like there is nothing else in the world worthy of holding such a position.

You can't help but think that's exactly right.


	4. Unavoidable Dreams

Chapter Four – Unavoidable Dreams

"_Dreams are often most profound when they seem the most crazy." - Sigmund Freud_

* * *

1.

The first time you dream of her, you dream big. It's not the first dream of her you've ever had per say. You've been best friends for far too long for her not to have popped up at least once or twice. Except usually you're doing weird shit together, like saving the world from a zombie apocalypse, or being stabbed by clowns only to realise your blood is actually jam and you're a doughnut. But now. Now you're doing _weird_ shit and you don't know what to do.

You can't exactly stop it. You can't tell yourself you don't want it. You can't tell yourself to let it go. Your subconscious is thinking about her just as much as your conscious mind is, it just isn't as good at keeping those thoughts PG.

She seems shocked when she first rolls over and you smile but her confusion persists so you ask the most tension breaking question you can think of in the moment you first wake.

"Do I have eye boogers?" She doesn't laugh. She doesn't talk. In fact she doesn't really respond to the actual question at all. She just slants her mouth over yours and kisses you. You don't react to her first moment because your mind is caught between, _oh God this can't be real _and _oh shit._ But her lips move smoothly against yours again and you find your own lips moving in tandem. Your brain seems to catch up a moment later because you push her gently away by her shoulder – giving yourself room to breathe, to think about this.

You wonder why you pushed her away the moment you can catch a glimpse of her entire face. She's beautiful. She has always been beautiful, but here and now with the light catching on her lips because they've just been on yours she makes your breath catch. And then she's being understanding and sweet and you once again question all of your life choices, even those that don't pertain to the gorgeous girl in front of you.

"We could stop right now, if you want?" She leaves it all in your hand and you unconsciously find yourself shaking your head because you don't want to stop. Your head is swimming with her essence and you find yourself ready to drown despite the fear you feel burning in your stomach. You pull her to you this time but she meets you half way and you're thankful because you're not quite sure you could have done it on your own.

Your hand trembles slightly on her jaw because you're really doing this, and there's something deliciously soft about her skin. There's no itchy stubble to irritate your skin, or fluff that they claim is a beard when your third grade female gym teacher had more hair on her face – though maybe that isn't the best base point because she was abnormally hairy and there was that bulge. Not the point.

The point was that you simultaneously lost yourself, and found yourself in her lips and you never wanted to stop. You kissed her harder, and harder with every moment that passed and you felt yourself growing dizzy with the loss of breath but you didn't want to stop, you wouldn't stop. You don't stop, at least not until an incessant beep makes you fling your eyes open. Eyes that don't fall upon Karma. Eyes that belong to a brain that is acutely aware of the fact that you almost had an unintentional sex dream about your best friend. And you liked it.

You were so fucked. Figuratively and, well, figuratively.

2.

For someone who has spent most of their life dependent on the girl, you find you're actually strangely good at avoiding Karma. You know all the places she'll go and the ones she'll look for you in and so you somehow manage to be in all the places she isn't. You're impressive, and accomplished, and hurting because you want to see her face.

You want to lie on your bed with her, staring at the stars and hearing the ins and outs of her day. Even if you have to lay and listen to her ramble about Liam you think it'll be worth it. It'd be worth it because you'd hear her voice. You'd hear the slight lilts when she got excited, and the little gasps that were almost like punctuation in her stories. And her face, oh how her face would light up gloriously the more she got into the story of the manly lunch lady and her obvious crush on the computer science nerd. You're not completely sure you see the sordid love affair like she does but you'll listen anyway with nods, and agreeing hums and laughs at the particularly ridiculous parts.

But you can't. You can't because you fought. You fought because you were jealous, and she could pick up on a lunch ladies love but she certainly couldn't see yours. You wonder when she suddenly got so oblivious to what was around her. If there was ever a time you needed observant Karma, it was now.

You're still ignoring her the next time you dream.

The fact that it's a dream seems obvious to you because you're back listening to her sing in front of everyone. You once again give her a goofy smile, and a wave, and she returns the smile as her hands deftly pluck the strings. Except this time her gaze doesn't waver from yours. She doesn't sing to Liam, and his smug annoying face, and perfectly coiffed her. She sings to you and you can feel your heart melt with each passing second.

The words seem more beautiful now. The chords seem sweeter. Her voice seems sharper. The sentiment seems seductive and your grin gets wider (if that's even possible). But suddenly it's finished and she's ignoring the cheers of the crowd. She is ignoring the compliments, and the praises and the smiles from people she's never got one from before even after the whole outing. She doesn't appear to care about any of it and then you are replacing the guitar in her hands as she catches your face and pulls you in. You're addicted to her, you think the moment her lips touch yours and she steals her breath with the touch of her touch against the roof of your mouth. You're gripping her shirt to the point that you can no longer feel blood rushing through the appendages.

When you open your eyes, she isn't there. You open your eyes to the flashing of the TV, and your slight dribble on the cushions of your sofa as you grip a pillow a little too hard - stopping the circulation of blood in your hand.

3.

The next dream if far more… heated.

You should have expected it really. It took a simple kiss to cause the first dream you ever had of her and now you almost had a threesome – kind of an obvious catalyst for your brain. Still, you weren't really prepared for how it occurred.

It starts just as it did before. Awkwardly. No one moves, no one starts this whole things and all though you're the one who wants to be there the least you find yourself dropping the trench coat you so easily stole from your mother and standing there in nothing but the lingerie you bought in an attempt to tempt her away from that sweaty palmed douche.

She stops, and she stares, and you find yourself smiling because she did. You heard her breath catch and you watched her eyes go wide. That part wasn't your imagination. You really did capture her attention. She walked over then – her legs trembling more and more the closer she got. You don't know how you ended up being the confident one in all of this, but you are.

It's you that pulls her closer. It's you that pulls the tie of her coat and runs your fingertips along her tender skin as you slip the item away from her body. It's you that doesn't care when you let your eyes roam over her body because you're supposed to be that way in the eyes of everyone else, and she certainly didn't shy away from looking at you. It's you that lets her hair slips between your fingers like silk, and it's you that inches your head forward first although she is right there with you not long after. You catch her lips without a second thought and you wonder if she can hear the thoughts running through your mind. The panic, and the anticipation, and the panic. You're really panicked.

But suddenly her hands are clasping your hips and she's tugging your forward. You forget everything because this wasn't the plan. You were supposed to lightly kiss, then she was supposed to kiss Liam and you were supposed to fake some illness. You've definitely deviated because her tongue is pleading for permission to access your mouth and you allow it without question because your mind is on fire.

You don't realise that you're pushing her towards the bed until her knees knock it and she crashes down with you on top of her. The voice in the back of your head tells you that Liam should be there. He should be crowding the moment with way too much tongue and wandering hands and leering looks at Karma. But he isn't there. The wandering hands aren't his – they're yours and they're Karma's and God you can't breathe but the more she kisses you the more you somehow don't care that you could suffocate in that moment.

You wake up before anything happens.

Your chest heaves, and your legs tremble, and your lungs burn. But you're awake and none of it really happened like that.

You're far more upset than you should be.

4.

You're in a fight the next time it happens.

She thinks that you enjoyed kissing Liam. She thinks he enjoyed kissing you. You can't speak on his part, though you're fairly sure that the last-minute panic research you did on threesomes says you kiss the girl you like less first. You suppose Karma's parents didn't prepare a binder for this occasion. You also think that you can't fix things with her because you can't tell her the truth. You can't tell her his hands were bigger than hers. You can't say his tongue was intruding, and persistent instead of timid and persuasive like hers. You can't say that his body was too large. You can't say that his lips were rough and chapped. You can't say that all you wanted was to be kissing her again. You can lie - though that doesn't seem to be helping either, so you're in a fight.

She barges through your bedroom door while you're half-heartedly watching House Hunters. You find it's not the same without her because you're allowed to talk during actual show time unlike America's Top Model and her booming laugh makes your heart race every time you make a stupid, sarcastic comment that would be passed off as negative and moan-y by anyone else.

You light up the moment she crashes through your door until it occurs to you that you're in a fight, and she is inevitably angry and here to shout at you.

"We need to talk!" You were right. The sentence itself is intelligent and amicable enough but there is a snap to her tone that you have become accustomed to. It's her 'this-is-serious-I'm-angry-at-you-voice' and it's not usually aimed at you but you nod easily and wait for her to start. She doesn't appear to be about to actually say anything and so you give a useless reply in response hoping it will kick-start something in her.

"Okay" Good enough, you think when she rolls her eyes at your answer to her dramatic entrance. She's pretty, you briefly think, when she is angry. There is a redness to her cheeks that makes her eyes burst on her face, and she's caught between looking hot and bothered, and an adorable kind of angry that doesn't make you scared in the sense that she'll do something. But scared in the sense that your heart is faltering and this is supposed to be a serious conversation, not you mooning over how cute her angry face is. Then there is the pout she is sporting. It's supposed to be conniving but all you want to do is catch it with your lips and forget all about this stupid fight, and stupid Liam, and this stupid fake relationship because hasn't it gone past being a ruse. It must have.

"Okay? That's your response" You nod stupidly. "Whatever. I'll talk" You nod again. "You kissed him" She doesn't say anything else. You want to sigh but you don't because that's not the answer to this despite her 'talking' being her making a stupid statement that really answers none of your problems or alerts you to the reason that she is so annoyed.

"Isn't that what you wanted? Me to act like a part of your threesome before I ran off and you had sex with a sleaze ball? A sleaze ball, need I remind you, that you have kissed many a time without me questioning you." Her glare drops to the ground and you take a timid step forward. You didn't want to hurt her feelings, but she is unintentionally hurting yours and you don't know what to say or what to do. Her glare is redirected at you the moment she realizes you've advanced.

"I _did_ want that" She mumbles and you finally let yourself sigh.

"I didn't want to kiss him Karma. I'm sorry I kissed your kind of boyfriend. What was I supposed to do? Push him off right then and have him tell you it couldn't happen because it felt wrong?" Her glare softens into nothing more than a tender gaze directly at you and your heart melts just that little bit more in that moment.

"Is that why you think I'm angry?" Your brow furrows.

"It's not?" You utter dumbly and she chuckles self deprecatingly as she shakes her head.

"No dumb-ass. I'm angry because I realized something the moment you dropped your coat and kissed me. I realized something big, and I thought you realized it too but then you were kissing him. You were kissing him, and it hurt to see someone else kissing _you. _I didn't want anyone else kissing _you_" Your heart stops. Your breath stops. Anything else that is working stops. Then she's kissing you and everything starts again.

You wake up to find her gently combing her fingers through your hair. The fogginess in your head tells you it was only a dream. Again. She's crouched beside your bed, and she's humming. You smile sleepily, and she replies in kind.

"Hey" Your voice is hoarse but almost silent in your room.

"Hi" She whispers back at the same volume.

"I'm sorry" You mumble and she chuckles breathily. It's one of your favourite sounds the moment it leaves her lips.

"That was my line" Her fingers are still scraping along your scalp and she watches your fluttering eyelids with a fond smile.

"I'm sorry" You repeat and she's laughing once again. You tug her onto your bed and she follows your pull without question, tucking herself into your side. She doesn't kiss you, though a question lingers on her lips – one she never quite garners the confidence to ask.

You find yourself stupidly disheartened.

5.

You're eating lunch the next time.

You haven't really been paying attention to anyone else at the table but her. Partially because you don't really care about what they have to say since for such accepting people, they're pretty superficial. And partially because she was holding your hand, and not in the _'everyone is looking quick grab my hand' _way but in the _'no one is here but I'm going to hold it anyway' _way. Shane had given you a look when they all joined you at the table. A look you're sure you had been sporting for quite some time, a period that started the moment her palm slipped into yours.

She hadn't said anything when she did it. Your hand had been resting carelessly on the table as you ate your apple and in a flash you felt an undeniable warmth spread through your veins as she placed her own hand in yours. She didn't say anything when you slipped your fingers into the gaps between her own; she had simply dropped her head and smiled under her breath. She thought you didn't see but you did and you squeezed her hand in return. She grinned more openly then and went back to eating her lunch.

You decided then that you were dreaming again. It was that decision that led you to make another rash decision you probably should have thought about.

It started with pudding.

She turned to you with her spoon raised along with her eyebrows, waiting for you to open up and enjoy the creamy chocolaty goodness but you couldn't focus on the spoon because there was a spot sitting on her lip that somehow seemed so much more appetizing, and you were dreaming anyway right?

You didn't care that it was cliché. You didn't care that people were around. You gently pushed her hand with the spoon away before slipping your hand into her hair and tugging her forward to catch her upper lip and thus the pudding with your mouth. You hear a vague moan from her direction, or maybe it was just you because the pudding is delicious, and so is she. You pull away without a thought.

"It's good pudding" You say simply but you don't get a response. Karma is still in the exact same position with her eyes sewn shut and her mouth hanging open. The rest of the table isn't fairing much better, they're just sitting and staring at you because you don't usually do that at the table despite everyone's love for PDA. Shane's eyes are shining and he has an incredibly smug look on his face that makes you do a double take.

They don't usually act like this in your dreams. They usually-

_Fuck._

"Well would you look at that, I gotta go" You say over dramatically looking at a watch that doesn't actually exist but you're already walking away so you don't hear the questions or see the looks that follow your exit. You do however hear footsteps echoing yours a few steps back and you do feel a hand gripping yours and pulling you to a stop by your locker. When you turn to the owner of the hand you find Karma, whose facial expression hasn't changed much. She looks confused, and dazed, and adorable as ever. But you can't be thinking that. You pretty much just licked pudding from her face, it wasn't that time.

"You kissed me" She says quietly.

"Pudding" Is your weak reply because apparently you can't formulate a sensible response, or excuse for this situation.

"You kissed me" She repeats, though it's stronger this time and the confusion that clouded her face is beginning to lift. You think you saw a smile but you're avoiding looking at her face and you're sure you imagined it because why would she be happy that you molested the pudding on her lip. She was probably creeped out.

Your next reply is as weak as your first.

"I thought I was dreaming" The moment it's out of your mouth you feel like an idiot because you just revealed something you most definitely should not have.

"You dream about me?" You spluttered incoherent words at her but you've finally looked her in the eye and she's smiling, and it's not a weirded out, pretending to be okay with the whole turn of events smile. She almost looks giddy.

"No?" You reply dumbly, but it sounds more like a question that an answer.

"You do. You dream about me and if that whole escapade was anything to go by, they get dirty. Amy Raudenfeld, do you have sex dreams about me?" You groan and drop your head into your hands. This is not how this should have gone down, with you being completely embarrassed and her laughing her ass off at your expense. But you don't care so much when she pries your hand away because her mouth is on yours, and she's sighing against your lips.

"I dream about you too" A grin spreads across your face and you can't help but think this is so much better than a dream.

God, you're such a sap.


End file.
